


𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑚𝑏

by Adrenalineshots, sonshineandshowers, TheFibreWitch



Series: Domino 🁡 [46]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, Harassment, Health Emergency, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Metafiction, Murder Mystery, Nightmares, Surrealism, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Video, a lot of really strange stuff that happens in altered states of consciousness, anxiousness, dosing, reader-driven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26505562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/pseuds/TheFibreWitch
Summary: Selecting 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑚𝑏 from the bookshelf, Malcolm travels through his own mind.Read this story at:https://www.thedominostory.com/#the-wolf-and-the-lambThis book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read thePrefaceorIntroduction, please head there first.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly
Series: Domino 🁡 [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926451
Kudos: 1
Collections: Domino 🁡, Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 - Saturday Posts





	𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑚𝑏

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/gifts), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/gifts), [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Wolf and the Lamb](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685411) by Aesop. 



> This book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read the [Preface](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64577434#workskin) or [Introduction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588537#workskin), please head there first.
> 
> Betaed by the wonderful [Jameena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/), [MissScorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/), and [ProcrastinatingSab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/).
> 
> Credit to the creators and their works that inspired and were referenced in this work:  
>  **— Inspiration:**[The Wolf and the Lamb](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wolf_and_the_Lamb) \- Aesop  
>  **— Cover Song:**[Hungry Like the Wolf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJL-lCzEXgI) \- Duran Duran  
>  **— Assets:**[Stock Texture](http://photoshoptutorials.wizapps.org/apps/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/tut-118-1.jpg), [Stock Vector](http://www.clipartbest.com/clipart-MiL5GjppT), [Stock Vector](https://www.clipartkey.com/view/TiRbmw_dog-coyote-drawing-clip-art-transparent-wolf-head/)

[](https://www.thedominostory.com/images/full/the-wolf-and-the-lamb.jpg) |   
---|---  
  
The Surgeon doesn’t need any excuses to justify killing. Someone sounded or appeared interesting to him. Someone had a new stature for exploratory surgery. Someone just happened to be around at the time he was looking for a kill.

Common logic and reason don’t apply to The Surgeon’s kills. Malcolm can pattern them, explore the man like any other serial killer, but that doesn’t ever get him any closer to an answer to his question — why did his father become a murderer? How did that become his chosen profession when he had so many other opportunities available to him?

With his box of clippings about The Surgeon’s case strewn all over the floor of his office, Malcolm takes his yearly stock of his life and wonders if they are indeed the same, when his own snap might happen. Though he’d investigate murders 24/7 if Gil would let him, he’s too much of a lamb to actively seek killing. All words and fuzz, but when it comes to lethal force, he’ll keel over and fake his own death instead of carrying it out.

Yet every time Dr. Whitly sees him, the words fall from his lips — “we’re the same.” That cannot be. Malcolm has spent the majority of his life proving he can take his own path. Gil has spent a wealth of time and resources looking after him and has never asked for anything in return. If Malcolm has to be like someone, he wants to be like Gil.

They’re supposed to be having dinner, he and Gil. Some time, some point in the future for Malcolm’s birthday. Malcolm checks his watch to see how much time he might have to continue with his investigation before Gil arrives. 7:45PM. Shit. He’s not even going to have all of the papers picked up by the time Gil gets to the door. His hand jitters, and he lets out a sharp, “ _Fuck!_ “ in frustration.

What excuse can Malcolm use to justify why his father’s decades-old case is all over his office floor? What can he say that won’t have Gil jumping multiple levels of concern before hello even makes it out of their mouths? His cell phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking his train of thought.

“Kid, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it tonight,” Gil says, his voice tired.

“Are you okay?” Malcolm asks. It’s really unlike Gil to miss any occasion, never mind a birthday.

“I’m not feeling so good.”

Ignoring the papers strewn everywhere, Malcolm carefully steps his way out of the office and heads downstairs. “I’m gonna come by — can I bring you something?”

“It’s alright kid — you don’t need to do that.”

“It’ll be my birthday present.”

“ _Kid_.”

“This is what you do, Gil. What kind of sick are we talking? Puke bucket, or I come make you some tea and soup?”

“No more tea,” Gil complains. “Haven’t felt right since.”

“What do you mean?” Malcolm makes it to the street and hails a cab.

“I don’t want to worry you. Get here first.”

Malcolm’s stress shoots through the roof, his foot tapping on the floor of the cab. He shares a strained smile with the cabbie, a mask that everything is fine and he will not cause trouble in the vehicle. “Gil, is it safe to wait?”

“Kid, I’m not dying before you get here.”

“I’d hope not after either,” Malcolm retorts, and Gil sighs. “I’m about to call an ambulance on you as payback for all the times you called one on me.”

“You _needed_ it.”

“Debatable. How do I know you don’t?”

“I can’t get off the couch, okay? And before any old man jokes leave your mouth, I’ll have you know I was feeling fine beforehand.”

“Where’d the tea come from?”

“Your mother.”

“Don’t drink any more of it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Did you make any complaints to her? Any pains? Express any emotions?” Be a human and share anything other than fine, fine, _fine_?

“No more than usual.”

“She’s infamous for drugging her subjects.”

“I am not her subject.”

“Companion, friend — whatever you want to call it, that’s her MO.” Malcolm doesn’t want to be in the middle of that forever complicated relationship.

“It’s closer to someone else’s.”

“Whose?”

“Your father’s.”

“You think he drugged you from Claremont?”

“It’s someone’s special day today, and I’m the only one in a position to take you out.”

“You’d tell me I was being irrational. Grasping for straws.”

“You got a better explanation?”

“I don’t want you to be right.”

“Now’s not the time for your ego.”

Malcolm looks out the window, counting the streets as he gets closer to Gil’s. “You’re sure you can breathe okay? You’re not in immediate danger?”

“Not that I can see.”

“It doesn’t give me the greatest confidence when you add qualifiers.”

“Now you see how it feels. When did you last see him?”

“A few days ago. I said we were doing our usual thing. _Dammit_ , I’m an idiot.” Thoughts of Gil succumbing to the very ketamine that he thought Malcolm had saved him from twenty years ago chill his frame, making him sweat under his sweater.

Why did his father need to kill people? Why couldn’t he just say _Happy Birthday_ like a normal human? Even forgetting his existence entirely would be preferable to whatever this sick intervention could be called.

 _Murder_.

“Gil, I’m a few blocks away,” Malcolm says, attempting to keep his breathing under control and not panic.

“Why did you say I’m not a good father?” Dr. Whitly’s voice taunts. “Why did you look down on me, act like death was something to be scorned? I just wanted to share my expertise with my son. My _boy_.”

Malcolm pays at the keypad and can’t sprint from the cab fast enough. “Gil, I’m gonna let myself in,” he says.

“Well, I’m sure not getting up to answer,” Gil jokes.

Once inside, Malcolm goes straight for Gil and gives him a huge hug. “I’m sorry, Gil. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, kid. He’ll go after anyone. And we don’t even know it’s him.” Gil rubs the back of his neck. “Happy birthday.”

“You can breathe okay?” Malcolm asks, holding Gil’s pulse point at the same time. Counting the steady beats, Malcolm knows he appears physically okay despite whatever high he’s experiencing. He pulls back a little, giving the man some space.

“Yeah. I’m just tired and lacking coordination.”

“How in the hell — why?”

“I think you know that answer.”

“But what this time? He got a little too jealous of our father-son relationship? I looked at him wrong?”

“Tyrants don’t need excuses.”

“But they do have to face the consequences. He won’t get away with this.” Livid at the circumstances, Malcolm would rush to confront Dr. Whitly that moment if Gil were in a better state.

Gil’s eyes close, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Sit with me a bit?”

“Can I get you something?”

“Glass of water. With a straw.”

“It’s that bad?”

Gil doesn’t answer, and Malcolm runs to quickly retrieve the drink. He holds the glass while Gil sips from the straw. “Hopefully our future doesn’t look like this, kid,” Gil comments, and Malcolm pulls back to set the glass on the coffee table.

“It’s better than not having one,” Malcolm says. “I would be there. You know that.”

“Yeah. Gettin’ closer, old man,” Gil teases.

Malcolm rests his back against Gil’s shoulder, and the two of them sit on the couch in companionable silence.

— ◌◯◌ —

“Joshua, we spoke on the phone yesterday, I’m Detective Powell,” Dani introduces herself and gestures to JT. “And this is my partner, Detective Tarmel.” They’re standing in a large windowed office, Veronica’s boss in quite the position of power himself. _Executive Editor_ shines on a name plaque on his door.

“Could have picked up the phone again,” Joshua comments, and his lips form a small, tight smile. “What brings you in?”

“We’d like to talk about a particular author — A. S. Harper.”

The man’s facial expression remains steady. “We discussed her on the phone yesterday. One of our bestsellers. Quite the novelist.”

“You failed to mention she’s dead,” Dani says, leaning into his desk. The man doesn’t bat an eye. “Do you know she’s dead?”

“I’d like to consult our company’s legal counsel,” Joshua replies.

Dani looks to JT, gauging his opinion on next steps. “Would you come with us down to the precinct?” he asks.

“I’ll talk to our company’s legal counsel, then if they think it’s okay, go with them to the precinct. That’s about the best you’re going to get.” The man’s face holds a practiced even keel that comes from years of corporate placating.

“Give us a call when you’re on the way,” JT requests, handing over his card. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”

JT and Dani walk out of the office and back toward the elevator. “Now you sound like the boss,” Dani jokes.

“How do you think we’d go about finding an intern in here?” JT asks, walking past the doors that lead back to the elevator.

“Huh?”

“One of the men I talked to yesterday was Veronica’s editorial assistant. Evan pre-reads draft manuscripts, decides what lands on Veronica’s desk.”

“That’s kind of intimidating, don’t you think? Just out of school and cops show up to talk to you in your workplace?” Empathy for the man’s position itches her skin, tells her it’s a terrible idea to seek him out.

“Meet him downstairs for coffee?” JT suggests instead, turning back toward the doors to the elevator.

“We need to be careful — I don’t want to do anything to get him in trouble.”

“If he says no, he says no.” They step onto the elevator. “But it’s worth a shot.”

He takes out his phone as soon as they reach the lobby, Dani steering them to the coffee shop to stock up on caffeine and find a spot in a less busy corner where they might be able to talk to Evan. Safely.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Head back to the [Bookshelf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588570#workskin) to pick another book. :)


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